


after the storm

by cafekusanagi (RangerDew)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Character Study, Dreams, Gen, Identity Issues, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Speculation, The Author's Pointed And Murderous Intent Towards Canon, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 12:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RangerDew/pseuds/cafekusanagi
Summary: Jin dreams in flashes of lightning.
Relationships: Fujiki Yuusaku & Kusanagi Jin, Kusanagi Jin & Kusanagi Shouichi, Kusanagi Jin & Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Comments: 9
Kudos: 6





	after the storm

**Author's Note:**

> me, yelling "WHAAAAAAT!" out loud like a jaded middle aged man just watched a sports team he vaguely liked lose when mihoyo decided to disappear jins trauma forever, thereby elevating him to Yugioh Girl status levels of characterization: being used as a plot device but conveniently not having to deal with the fallout of said plot devicing after your season because you forget about it 
> 
> me: im NOT writing anything for a character who basically doesnt have any personality. he already gets way too much weight in fandom just for being a guy  
> me, weeks later: 
> 
> i listened to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtuX4cHk-vE) for most of the writing this

Jin dreams in flashes of lightning. Memories or scenes he’s invented but can’t understand flash in a bright, blinding light and then leave as quickly as they appear, leaving nothing but a burning in his eyes and an afterimage in his mind and the thick, thick smell of ozone in the air.

He doesn’t tell his brother. Shoichi seems both paranoid and hesitant when it comes to his health, and no doctor will tell him what happened beyond a great trauma and an amnesia of some kind. Shoichi seems to regard it as a miracle.

So, of course, it’s irrevocably, undeniably selfish that Jin considers it a curse. Just one of many things he can’t tell Shoichi — that he’d rather know what happened to him than be consistently disoriented by glimpses of bright aftertraces and an untenable feeling in his heart.

Life goes on as it always does. Jin wakes up and Shoichi, hesitantly, asks how he’s doing. Like he’ll snap any morning nowadays. Jin puts on a shy smile and says that he’s fine as always and  _ nii-san  _ worries too much, and Shoichi will laugh and be back to his normal self again. But it’s always on the back of their minds. For Shoichi, no doubt, in memories of sanitized rehabilitory homes and for Jin, a lingering, harsh smell of ozone.

It’s always just out of his grasp. Jin wishes he had some kind of photographic memory; anything to capture that fleeting moment, that flash of brilliant truth that strikes his inner skull during the night. 

—

He doesn’t know anything about Yusaku Fujiki.

Shoichi seems to hold him in an incredibly high regard. He’s the man who saved your life, Jin, he’d say. I owe him everything. Then, he’d laugh: Free coffee for life is a great dent in Cafe Nagi’s profits, you know? That proves how much I owe him, I guess.

It’s unreasonable, but there’s always a seed in Jin’s heart that feels a small tinge of annoyance towards Fujiki- _ san.  _ So he’s so great. So he saved Jin’s life. So he’s been through a lot, and it’s what made him strong. Jin highly doubts that’s true, from the constant correspondence he still sees on Shoichi’s phone between him and Jin’s doctors. Whatever happened, it didn’t make  _ Jin  _ stronger.

So what was so special about Fujiki- _ san,  _ hm? 

...And that was rotten talk. Jin hated those thoughts almost as much as he hated the fleeting glimpses in his dreams. How dare he. Fujiki- _ san,  _ who worked so hard. Fujiki- _ san,  _ who his brother owes everything to. Who he owes everything to.

He doesn’t even remember, though, he bitterly thinks. Anything Fujiki- _ san  _ did for me has been snatched by a ‘miracle’. So why do I have to thank him for something I don’t even remember?

Rotten talk again. Jin forces himself to wipe all the counters in the hot dog truck again that night.

—

It’s one day when they’re doing a shift by the seaside mansion Shoichi seems especially antsy next to that a mysterious, white-haired customer finally appears.

Thank god. Jin doesn’t know why Shoichi still insists on coming to this outpost; they haven’t had a single customer in all Jin’s time stationed out here, and yet Shoichi keeps coming. No explanation at all; it’s just part of his routine. Jin doesn’t complain, though. The sea is pretty and he likes the sound of seagulls. It’s a nice break from the crowds of the Den City plaza.

Jin plasters on a smile. “Welcome to Cafe Nagi! How may we serve you?”

The stranger smiles a pleasant, charismatic smile. He has a kind of sway to him, Jin thinks. Like the kind of guy he imagines is cool, successful, HR manager, or something. There’s no emotion you can read from his face except this cool contentedness. “One hot dog and a coffee, please.”

“Wait— Holy shit, ack— excuse me, holy  _ crap— _ Revolver, is that you?”

Revolver?

“Please, call me Ryoken,” the stranger says. “I have a strict work-life separation.” 

There’s that coy smile again. Definitely the cool, successful kind. 

“Ah, fine. That’s still going to be a bit weird. Welcome, though.” Shoichi’s face turns stony for a second. “Any business, or are you actually strictly here for a snack?”

“Just the food,” Ryoken says. “If anything happened, I probably wouldn’t be troubling you, anyway. The Hanoi have everything under control nowadays.”

Shoichi snorts. “Okay. Like you guys have ever handled any of those past situations by yourselves.”

Hanoi— business— this is all moving too fast. Information. Jin suddenly has an overwhelming desire for information. “Hanoi?” he says.

Shoichi’s face immediately clams up. He seems to realize he’s said too much. “Shit— I mean, crap, Jin, don’t worry about it.” He tries to morph his face into a reassured smile. “Everything’s over now. This is just some leftover business talk.” 

“I want to hear it,” Jin says, as innocently as he can manage. For all his brother knows, he’s a nice, quiet kid who’s recovering from intense trauma. If only he knew.

Shoichi looks like he’s just been slapped and he flinches back, breathing through his teeth a little. “Jin... I—”

“No, it’s fine,” Ryoken says, and Jin can suddenly feel Shoichi glaring sharp daggers at the man’s head. “He deserves to know. He’s a Lost Incident victim like Fujiki- _ san,  _ right?”

Shoichi’s expression turns to panic. “No, Revolver—” 

Jin’s head won’t stop spinning. “Lost Incident?”

Ryoken still looks calm, though he’s notably stopped in his tracks. “...Does he not know?”

“He’s not supposed to.” Shoichi’s voice comes out hard and cold. “It’s—it’s a miracle he managed to forget at all. He shouldn’t remember. Nobody should ever have to remember.”

Ryoken’s eyes turn a bit dark as well to match his. “That’s not for you to decide.” 

Shoichi looks like he’s about to eviscerate him. “I’m his brother.”

They stare at each other for a long, long moment. Jin can feel the tension in the air. But before he has a chance to decide what to do, Come on, Jin or Shut up, Jin, his brother sighs. All the electricity dissipates from the scene.

“I’ll get you one hot dog and one coffee,” Shoichi says. 

“Many thanks,” Ryoken says, as coolly as he always does.

Shoichi turns without a word and opens the grill (there really are no customers around here; it hasn’t been opened this entire time). Jin immediately follows to prepare the coffee.

It’s a silent next thirty seconds. When Jin’s done with the coffee, Shoichi is still preparing the bun. He’s staring at it intensely, as if thinking about something dire. Or trying hard not to think about something dire.

Jin speaks up. “I’ll get him the coffee first, okay,  _ nii-san _ ?”

“Yeup. Go for it,” Shoichi says.

Jin gingerly nestles the cup inside a paper handwarmer and brings it to the counter. A placated smile is back on Ryoken’s face, and he smiles a bit wider as he takes the coffee from Jin.

“Thank you,” he says. “This is the only kind of takeout I’ve ever gotten in my life. I’ve grown fond of it.”

I want to know about the Hanoi and the Lost Incident, Jin thinks. But he’s also a bit… intrigued by the lifestyle of this stranger. “...The only kind?” 

Ryoken’s face shifts to one of mild surprise. “Yes. Most of the time, I cook my own food, or one of my subordinates cooks it for me. Food of this isn’t very healthy, as my associate constantly tells me, but it certainly is tasty.”

Subordinates? So he  _ is  _ the cool, successful kind. Jin is feeling smaller and smaller standing next to him, and that’s not even counting the mysterious Hanoi ‘business’ stuff his brother mentioned. “Um, well, I hope you come by more often,” Jin says shyly. He’s learned that this is what most people come to expect of him; an embarrassed laugh and a nervous smile. “It’s a bit boring out here, despite how beautiful the ocean is.”

This seems to please Ryoken. He smiles serenely. “It is very beautiful,” he says. “You should see it at night. Do you know what this area is called?”

Jin raises a brow quizzically. “Stardust Road?”

Ryoken smiles a bit brighter. “And not for no reason. At nighttime, the luminescent plankton near that beach light up. It looks just like an ocean of stars.”

Jin… really wants to see that. It makes him wonder, again, why Shoichi is so adamant on coming here during the day. They’re missing exactly what makes this spot so special. 

“That sounds beautiful,” Jin says. “It makes me wonder why Shoichi comes by during the day.”

The smile on Ryoken’s face turns a bit embarrassed. “I’m ashamed to say that may be my fault. I used to be the only customer around here. I’ve been busy lately, though.”

With Hanoi? Jin wants to ask badly. With ‘business’? With the Lost Incident? With monitoring the network? With what work, Ryoken? Please tell me. I want to know something, anything. 

“Your hot dog’s ready,” Shoichi says, haphazardly plopping a paper bag on the counter. “That’ll be six hundred yen, for both.”

“Thank you.” Revolver smoothly pulls the bills out of his wallet and hands them over to Shoichi, who begins to maneuver their cash register. “I’ll take my leave, now.”

“Good luck,” Shoichi says gruffly.

“It’s appreciated,” Revolver replies.

He leaves, heading down the path to who-knows-where. Jin’s eyes are on his back the entire time, as a source of his answers recedes, recedes, and recedes further down the footpath.

“I think that’s enough time stationed here.” Shoichi stretches and lets out a loud, long yawn. “What do you say we make it back to Den City for rush hour?”

Jin smiles shyly. “Sure,  _ nii-san _ ,” he says, and as Shoichi closes their shutters all his mind can alternate between are the words Hanoi, business. Lost Incident.

—

It frustrates him, the dichotomy between the him his brother knows and the him that exists.

He doesn’t mind putting on a mask all the time. But, at the same time, in the face of his brother it irritates him.

Jin is  _ okay _ now, thank god. Jin is no longer a screaming, crying basket case who needs to be watched by nurses and doctors twenty-four seven. Jin is no longer going to snap at any second. He’s just a normal kid now, hooray! Ah, but not a  _ normal  _ kid; not a real person with thoughts and feelings independent of the trauma he literally  _ forgot _ , but some kind of— more filled-in shell of the person Shoichi knew him as.

It hurts him so, so deeply that his brother can’t see past the person Jin can’t even remember he was. He won’t stop treating him like a piece of glass. Won’t stop treating him like the quiet, nice, recovering kid. Jin barely knows what it was all like. It’s like his brother can’t see past the— the  _ invalid  _ he’d been all that time, the person he never even was. 

_ You’re the one who wants me to get past my trauma,  _ he wants to yell.  _ Well, I’ve gotten past it. When will you get past it, too?! _

What a childish man. Jin almost feels bad for Fujiki- _ san.  _ Brother or not, Jin can’t imagine working with him daily. Maybe Fujiki- _ san  _ is stronger than him, after all.

Ha ha. Isn’t that funny. The mental ability to withstand Jin’s brother. It gives him a good, spiteful chuckle as he goes to sleep.

—

They’re by the seaside again. Per Jin’s request, they’re going to stay until nightfall this time. He wants to see the luminescent plankton himself.

Shoichi is off on a walk — ever since their last time here, his nerves have been kind of shot around this area. He’s scared, he guesses. For Jin.

How heartwarming.

He’s your brother, you heartless worm. Stop being like this.

“Are you open right now?”

Jin turns wildly to the source of the sound — smooth, deep, unfamiliar — and is greeted face to face by Ryoken, ‘Revolver’, the white-haired stranger.

He’s here again. Jin can’t curb the curiosity and nervousness beginning to thrum in his heart. His shy, embarrassed smile graces his face again. “Of course.  _ Nii-san  _ is off taking a walk, but I know how to run the stand. Same as last time?”

Revolver shoots him a pleased smirk. “Yes, please.” 

Jin quietly goes off to prepare the coffee and fry the hot dog. The entire time, he wonders how to frame the question. Can you tell me about the Lost Incident? Is that too forward? Maybe he should ask who the Knights of Hanoi are, or ask how he knows Shoichi. The entire time, he feels the stranger’s eyes on his back. 

It’s only when his bun burns slightly that he picks it off the grill in a panic and hastily shoves the hot dog in. He’d been so deep in thought. He still doesn’t know what to ask Ryoken.

He packs the hot dog and slips the coffee into another handwarmer as he heads back toward the counter. Revolver is still standing there, pleasantly waiting.

As Jin gingerly sets the coffee and paper bag on the counter, Ryoken’s and his fingers touch for a split second and he asks, “Why did my brother call you Revolver?”

Ryoken’s look of mild surprise is back, almost like he expected the question but didn’t know when Jin would ask. “That’s the name I went by, and still go by on the net.”

He takes the coffee and bag, and Jin’s hands are suddenly washed over by the ocean breeze without the warmth of the hot cup. “What kind of ‘work’ do you do under that name?”

Revolver gives him a look. “You’re a lot more curious than I gave you credit for,” yeah, I get that a lot, “I monitor the net for any irregularities. Of course, when I worked with your brother I did something quite different. Though,” he takes a sip of the coffee as the cold ocean air buffets them both, “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about that.”

Jin knows exactly what words he wants to leap out of his mouth next. No, I’m too curious, he would say rapidly. I need to know. Please tell me. 

(Every morning, his brother asks him if he’s okay. Every morning, he replies yes with a shy and pleasant smile. This is the him everyone knows. This is the him his brother believes he is.)

“That’s okay,” Jin says aloud. “My brother’s like that. Monitoring the net sounds interesting, though. How’d you get the job?”

Ryoken takes another sip. There’s a sorrowful element in his smile. “It’s a favor for a friend,” he says, and they leave it at that. As Shoichi’s figure comes into view in the distance again, Ryoken is already gone, somewhere off the footpath in the fog.

As it happens, they aren’t able to see the plankton that night. Shoichi apologizes incessantly, but Jin tells him it’s alright and Shoichi says, Yeah, next time, right? and just like that, everything’s okay. Everything’s always okay in the end.

—

Sometimes when the lightning flashes and illuminates his mind for that split second he swears he sees diamonds. The shape, oscillating, repeating itself unto infinity. He swears he sees lines of code and a void. 

But mostly, he sees nothing at all. It’s all so, so fleeting, and Jin will never grab onto any of it, the bits of himself that he lost. The ozone permeates him, overwhelms him with a feeling, a distant nostalgia so familiar yet unknowable in his conscious mind. He feels like he’s constantly sifting through a library for a book that doesn’t exist. He remembers reading it. It’s just not there.

And he’ll never read it again. He’ll never know anything about it except in those short bursts of truth. 

‘Miracle’? In your dreams. Jin has lost a part of himself forever. Nobody wants him to remember it. He himself doesn’t remember it. Everyone else remembers him as it. So, what? He’ll live, stuck between those two states, these two truths forever? The person he no longer is anymore, and the person everyone still swears he is but won’t allow him to remember. 

It’s terrifying. Jin sits within the blank confines of his mind, waiting, waiting, for the things that are gone. 

—

‘Revolver’ is back. 

Shoichi has promised they’ll stay out again until the plankton start lighting up in the night, and the weather forecasts predicted no fog. Shoichi, predictably, is also out on one of his nervous walks again.

And so, Jin and Ryoken. Beside the ocean that is Stardust Road.

“Same order as last time?” Jin smiles.

“Yes, thank you.” Ryoken pulls out the six hundred yen before they even finish speaking.

As Jin is preparing the hot dog, Ryoken suddenly calls out, “Actually, would you mind if I ordered one more serving of each?” 

Jin turns as he’s grilling the bun. “Sure, for who?”

Ryoken gives another coy grin. “Ah, I was hoping we could talk.”

Oh.

“It’s on the house, then,” Jin says, grinning. “My brother would never charge me from our own store.” 

“Great,” Ryoken says. As Jin hands over his helpings, though, Ryoken still leaves an extra six hundred yen in the tip jar.

He walks out through the back door of the truck, his own hot dog and coffee in hand, to meet at one of the fold-up tables set up outside. They sit, amicably. Revolver begins to take his meal out of his bag.

Jin tries not to stare at the man, the source of mystery, and stare out at the ocean instead. Even without the plankton, he thinks, he likes it. It’s beautiful, but there’s also something refreshing about its vastness, and yet the knowledge of its containment. The ocean looks like it stretches on forever, but there are neat little lines on maps that mark where it starts and ends. It’s just as within Jin’s knowledge as it should be. 

Just as Ryoken begins to move on to his meal, Jin speaks. He hopes he isn’t interrupting  _ too  _ much; what does Ryoken want? A ‘talk’, or a genuine lunch? “So, what did you call me out here to talk about?”

Ryoken stops mid-bite, lowers his hand a little. “I was under the impression you were curious about me,” he says.

Jin stares at him from the periphery of his view; he’s still staunchly faced toward the glistening wide ocean. “I am. But…”

Ryoken puts his hot dog down and holds his hands out in welcome. “I’ll answer any question you have.” 

See, this is what bothers Jin; he’s so willing to provide answers. His brother is so staunchly against it. Regardless of what Jin himself wants, he can’t help but hear his brother’s worried voice and repetitive Are you okay? in his head. What if his brother is really right? 

When it comes to the critical moments, Jin really is a coward. “Why?” 

Ryoken looks like he hesitates for a second; Jin can only wonder what gears are turning in his head. “Let’s say I owe you,” he says, after a beat. “And there’s no way I can repay it. But I can give you this much, can’t I?”

“...What do you owe me for?”

He shoots Jin a mirthful smirk. “Well, that’s in the questions you haven’t asked yet.”

This man knows there’s something behind his eyes, something Jin deeply wants to know but that no one can provide the answers to. And he’s offering.

Jin tries to pinpoint why he’s hesitating. If he’d just been given a hypothetical lead to everything a week ago, would he have taken it?

No, he wouldn’t have, is the realization. There were no circumstances where he would without hesitation take a deal like this. Because…

(Because everything’s okay right now? Because everything always turns out okay in the end, so just don’t rock the boat? Because you want everyone to know the real you and you want everyone to give you answers but you’re so full of spite and terror and fear to reach out yourself that you won’t? Because you want to unknowingly stumble upon the information, or be pinned to a wall and forced to hear it, rather than seek it out yourself?)

“...Give me some time to think about it,” Jin says. Ryoken actually looks genuinely surprised at that one, and Jin hurriedly interjects, “Uh, if this is a one-time offer, forget about it, then. Sorry. We can just… talk. About… normal things.”

What a trainwreck he is. Ryoken bounces right back into a grin, though, as understanding and pleasant as ever. “Sure,” he says, and, as coolly as he always does, launches straight into conversation. “So, how do you find the weather around here…”

—

Jin’s dreams of flashes and ozone continue. He and Ryoken meet up several more times, at the folding table beside the sea. They mostly talk about nothing, but Ryoken keeps coming back, every time ordering one coffee, one hot dog, and tipping double. 

At some point, Jin begins to wonder if Ryoken is tired of waiting for him. But he feels the air, and all he sees is peaceful conversations of topics so mundane he can never remember. It begins to fall into routine. It relaxes.

(Jin and Shoichi do see the plankton one night, by the way. The sea flew alight with tiny marine stars and all Jin could think was, Eh. It’s not as cool as I expected.)

—

Jin is beginning to fear that no one will ever know him.

The mess of little contradictions that weave together to make Jin; curiosity and cowardice, before and after, outer and inner, nice and mean, a feeling of penance or guilt and a stone in his heart to tell him he owes nothing. 

Wouldn’t it be nice, if he could parse his dreams? If he could become what Shoichi feared, his former state, a shell of a boy? No more Jin to worry about. No more Jin to be filled with this mess of a personality. 

Shoichi would be sad. Jin wonders how Shoichi would feel if he actually knew what Jin was like. 

...Yes, everything would be easier before. Jin’s filled with spite again, the evidence of his wretchedness. 

Just drain me already, hm? 

—

He finally sees someone else beside the seaside one day. It’s another late night; despite the plankton being underwhelming, there’s still something Jin likes about the sea, and Shoichi seems to have realized it’s relaxing for him. They park and spend the night here sometimes.

It’s a boy with blue hair and a high school uniform. As he looks out at the double-mirror of the sea of stars and the sky of stars, he seems to be talking to himself.

Jin walks a bit closer, and he doesn’t appear to notice him. Over the wind, Jin can hear bits and pieces.

“...Fulfilled my three things. I guess it’s time to move on to… new… right, Ai?” The twinkling lights are reflected in his eyes. “I know I said to you that life… bonds, forever. But you were right. It is tiring.” The boy yawns. “New goals, goals fulfilled. ...Come back, Ai?”

“....Kusanagi- _ san… _ Jin is doing better. Ryoken is still… Takeru...” 

It’s with slow, dawning hunch that Jin realizes there’s a chance this is may be the elusive Yusaku Fujiki Shoichi talks about. He doesn’t move to confirm it. It’s getting cold out, and the breeze is scratching his cheeks. He returns back to the hot dog truck, the wind blowing away the sound of Jin’s footsteps and the stranger still throwing words into the wind.

—

“I don’t really know what I want anymore,” he says to Ryoken one noon.

Ryoken sips his coffee. “Go on?”

Jin stares out at the sea. “I keep wondering if things would be different if I knew what happened. But I still wouldn’t have those parts of me that I lost. I’ll never get them back, no matter what I do, and I’ll be angry forever about it. Everything else feels like a consolation prize.”

Ryoken continues to sip in silence. Jin wonders if he saw his hand stutter, or if that was a trick of the mind. Their silence is filled in with sounds of the ocean; seagulls barking in the distance, the crashing of the waves. Eventually, Ryoken puts his cup down. 

“I may be way off base, but… have you considered re-enrolling into school?”

Jin nearly shakes his head, but he stops himself. This isn’t the area of his issues at all; he  _ is  _ way off base. “I haven’t.” 

A sigh escapes Ryoken’s lips, barely perceptible. “I haven’t been through what you have. Feel free to take this as a grain of salt. But, from someone who’s also lost too much,” his eyes turn distant, “I think you should seize things while you can. It may help.” 

“...Help my quality of life?”

“Maybe.” Ryoken takes another sip. “Pursuing a goal while mindlessly lost isn’t a good idea. That’s all.”

Jin constantly feels like there’s something else behind Ryoken’s words. He wonders if Ryoken returns the favor; feels a well of shattered glass and hastily stitched desire behind Jin’s. Both equally imperceptible to each other, and aware of the fact, it’s— it’s almost nice.

Ryoken doesn’t completely understand him. That’s okay. Maybe the ocean can stretch out in front of them and the scent of salt can hit their noses, the waves can toil and roll ad infinitum, the joyful swoops and cries of seabirds can play themselves out overhead. Maybe Jin will never be complete, but Ryoken won’t either. Maybe they can wait. Maybe this is enough.

The thought of re-enrolling nestles itself in a corner of Jin’s mind. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this was originally 5-6k words but it was quickly growing out of what i wanted it to be so i scrapped all of that set a 35 minute timer and tried to finish this as quickly as possible. enjoy.
> 
> let me know if you disagree. with anything, i guess. i do not have ptsd and therefore i cant fully judge the way vrains wrote and handled his arc, and im always open to conversation about these things!
> 
> surprisingly, i liked writing jin a lot. his personality is fascinating to me. i think being filled with venom and spite after everything, maybe despite everything, forgetting it all, fascinating. i liked creating this


End file.
